


The Day NCIS Saved Christmas

by Sehrezad



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, F/M, Gen, Santa's in trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2765198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sehrezad/pseuds/Sehrezad





	The Day NCIS Saved Christmas

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

_Summary: Palmer is called to northern Pennsylvania to perform an autopsy in a small town and Ziva's accompanying him. When there's no word from them, Gibbs gets worried and not without reason: there's been an accident and his wife is nowhere to be found. On the day of Christmas Eve Team Gibbs sets out to find Ziva and to solve an unusual case. (established Zibbs)_

_This story was written last year as a Secret Santa gift. I thought I post it here this year. :) Enjoy!_

* * *

McGee was ready to run to Ziva's empty desk screaming to find a knife she must be hiding there somewhere and slit up his wrists. There were just so many Christmas songs one can stomach in a holiday season and he had already passed his limit some time around the end of November. And now he was ready to spill some blood.

From behind his desk, he threw a murderous look in the direction of Tony, who was humming "Jingle Bells" without any care in the world. Giving it a second thought, he quickly changed his mind about committing suicide because that idiotic cheesy grin on Tony's face made him want to go over there and squeeze the living breath out of him and make that grin disappear from his face… and make the music stop.

"Would you mind turning it off, Tony? Please."

"Yep, I would mind." Seeing the long-suffering expression on his younger colleague's face, Tony straightened in his chair, his grin turning teasing. "What is it McGrinch? Someone stole Christmas?"

"I just wish," McGee muttered.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I just said that I wish Ziva were here."

"You want to say that you don't enjoy my company?"

"Yeah, Tony," McGee admitted. "I stopped enjoying your company when Christmas decorations began to appear in the shop windows."

"You are a mean one, Mr. Grinch," Tony pouted theatrically.

"Nope," Gibbs made the two men jump as he appeared seemingly from nowhere, "that's me, DiNozzo."

"You are absolutely right, boss," Tony agreed trying to look busy by putting pieces of paper here and there on his desk then relocating them again. Then he stopped and winced. McGee rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "I didn't mean that you are mean, boss," he tried to back-pedal but the look on Gibbs' face showed that he was not amused. "I just meant that you are right most of the time… well… all the time… but it doesn't make you mean… not that you were wrong… and I'm shutting up now."

McGee let out a silent 'thank you' before he turned to his boss and asked, "Have you heard from Ziva?"

"No," was the older man's short reply. His agents furrowed their brows.

"Weren't they supposed to start back yesterday evening?" Tony asked with just a little bit of concern in his voice.

Ziva had accompanied Jimmy Palmer when the young ME assistant had been sent to help out the police department of Winterwood somewhere in the forests of northern Pennsylvania because the little town had no coroner while they definitely had a corpse that needed an autopsy.

"They were," Gibbs confirmed.

To say that he wasn't happy when Ziva volunteered to go with Jimmy would be the understatement of the century. He might have not shown it but this year he was actually looking forward to the holidays and Ziva traveling to only-God-knows-where just a couple of days before Christmas didn't bode well with him and his Christmas spirit. However, he knew better than to pull his boss-card with his wife when he had no authority to do so. Vance asked her and she agreed; Gibbs had nothing left to do but stay put and be satisfied with her daily calls. The problem was that she was supposed to call him when they got on the road. He was still waiting for that call.

"That's not good, not good at all," Tony shook his head, his frown deepening. "You don't think that she'd let Palmer drive, do you?"

"No," McGee expressed his opinion with conviction while they shared a look with Tony. Gibbs' attention was arrested by something else, though, and he watched with growing concern as the Director descended the stairs.

"They could be in Canada by now," Tony mused as Vance came to a stop by his desk.

"A call's just came through," the director began. "There's been an accident last night."

Gibbs swallowed but remained silent.

"An accident?" Tony asked back, squirming in his seat. Just like his boss, he had a feeling that it wasn't about a new case. "Should we grab our kit?" He asked nonetheless, praying for a yes.

"We don't need our kit," Gibbs finally spoke up as he was already on the move. "What do we know?"

"Not much," Vance informed him as he followed his agent to the elevator with the younger agents on his heels. "The line was quite bad. They found the car on State Road 1011 not far from the town. But Gibbs…" he halted the door of the elevator after the three agents got in. "They were talking about Mr. Palmer but I don't think I heard Agent David's name." When Gibbs gave him a tight nod, he withdrew his hand and let the doors shut.

* * *

When Ziva regained consciousness, she winced at the sharp throbbing in her head. A pained moan was just about to escape her lips when she suddenly tensed. She didn't know where she was. Well, she was lying in a bed, that much she could tell but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had not gone to bed the previous night. This brought a question to the forefront of her foggy mind: just what the hell had happened the previous night?

She was in a car. Well, that was as good a start as any, she snorted to herself when she couldn't come up with anything else. Then she remembered talking… a lot of talking. She winced. Oh yes, she was in the car with Jimmy Palmer. This partly explained why she didn't remember much of the previous night. After a six-hour-long drive and a very long few days in the company of the young ME assistant, Ziva tried very hard to block out his incessant babbling about nearly anything that just happened to pop into his mind.

But this still didn't explain the bed, no, the unfamiliar bed, she was currently lying in… and her killing headache that seemed to have taken up the rhythm of one of Tony's stupid Christmas songs about a reindeer with big red nose. In a futile attempt to disregard the annoying beats of the song, she tried to concentrate on something else. Well, apart from finding her stomach clench at the sickly sweet smell in the room, it only made her realize that the song – that in the meantime changed to "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree" – was not in her head but was actually playing in the room.

This time Ziva couldn't help the loud moan that escaped her lips.

When she heard footsteps in the room, she quickly shot up in bed with wide eyes and with that firm intention to look for anything that could be used as a weapon against the owner of the strange footsteps. She quickly decided that the sudden movement was definitely not good for her head and with a thud, she lay back on her pillow clutching her throbbing head in her hands and squeezing her eyes shut.

When the throbbing became somewhat bearable, she felt that one side of her forehead was bandaged. That finally explained the headache, though, the reason behind that bandage being on her head still remained a mystery as Ziva's mind wandered to other things. She was trying to decide whether that red-nosed reindeer, she had seen in that split second she could actually open her eyes, was real or she had just taken a great blow to her head. Well, seeing that there was a bandage on her forehead, it wasn't that big of a stretch to accept the latter version.

Satisfied with this admittedly slight improvement in accessing her current predicament, she once again noticed the presence of footsteps in the room which was now accompanied by silent shuffling. Deciding to give another try to take in her surrounding, she popped an eye open. This time she managed to keep it open. In fact, the other eye quickly followed the first one and Ziva – disregarding the symphonic orchestra that was currently playing "Joy to the World" in her head – she stared with wide eyes… and a huge red-nosed reindeer was staring right back at her.

Ziva didn't blink but the thing did as it stepped closer to her with large inquisitive eyes.

"Oh, my goodness," Ziva finally croaked as she closed her eyes once again. She was in the middle of convincing herself that she had not completely lost her mind when the bed shifted under her. Once again, her eyes snapped open fully alert, her body ready to move and defend herself. She lost her momentum, though when she came face to face with an old man with rosy cheeks and white beard.

"Ho-ho-ho-ho, young lady," the old man laughed merrily. "You're up. Here, have a mug of hot chocolate. It'll help you get on your feet in no time." And with that he unceremoniously shoved a mug with two smiling snowmen hugging on it into Ziva's hands.

She hardly managed to keep it upright as she was half-way sitting and half-way still lying down.

"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

The old man gave her a bemused look before answering, "Santa Claus, of course," he kept smiling while a bell sounded in the background. "Drink that up," he instructed Ziva, "cookies just got ready."

And with that he stood and left for the kitchen, leaving a dumbstruck Ziva sitting in the bed.

* * *

"Gibbs. NCIS," with his two agents on his heels, Gibbs burst into Palmer's hospital room where the young man was talking to the Sheriff, shoving his badge into the other man's face. "I want to know everything you've got so far."

"Leroy?" the Sheriff asked surprised and it made Gibbs stop for a second, too.

"Larry?" Gibbs returned the question before the two men hugged like old friends.

"You two know each other?" an embarrassed Palmer asked from the bed but it seemed that none of the other men heard him.

"I can't believe it," Larry exclaimed joyfully seeing his old high-school friend from Stillwater before his features darkened as he quickly put the pieces together. "It's your wife we're looking for here."

"Yes," Gibbs gave a tense nod. "And we've got to find her as soon as possible."

"Agent Gibbs," Palmer spoke up once again. "I… I'm so sorry. I should have known better… I should have let Ziva concentrate on the road and not keep talking to her like an idiot the whole time… there was so much snow… and it kept falling… and then there was that reindeer in the middle of the road… and Ziva shrieked…" Here he stopped for a second looking slightly confused. "No, it was me…" he corrected himself. "Ziva tried to stop but she lost control… it happened so fast, Agent Gibbs, and I don't remember anything else…" here he stopped again, concentrating and trying to recall the events.

"A reindeer, Palmer?" from his position next to Tony by the door, McGee asked with furrowed brows as Gibbs sighed heavily.

"Yes, a reindeer, Tim. I'm not an idiot."

"I would contest that," Tony quipped but it was obvious that his interest was picked. "Did it have red nose?" In his excitement he completely missed McGee's roll of the eyes and his incredulous 'I can't believe it'.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Tony," Palmer told him with all seriousness.

"Cool," Tony's eyes lit up. "Do you think Santa Claus was around, too?" he asked.

At first Jimmy thought that Tony was mocking him but then he realized that the agent was serious. With a perplexed expression, he opened his mouth to say something to that but Gibbs, who was getting impatient, cut him off.

"Well, we know that Santa Claus didn't take Ziva, so let's start…"

"As a matter of fact, Leroy…" Larry interrupted him, looking slightly sheepish, "Santa Claus might have just took your wife."

* * *

"You do not look like an average kidnapper," Ziva stated after slowly following the old man to the kitchen where he was taking gingerbread cookies out of the baking pan. "Why did you take me?"

"I need your help," he answered with his full attention on the cookies.

"My help?" Ziva raised an eyebrow. "You kidnap me and expect me to help you?"

"I didn't kidnap you," he chuckled, sparing only a glance for her. "I helped you."

"Really? And what about my friend? I can't see him around. You didn't help him," she accused him. "Why?"

"He didn't need any help," the man finished, putting the cookies into a bowl where a considerable amount had already been piling up. He turned to Ziva cleaning his hands in a kitchen towel. "He was all right – talking nonsense but looked fine. Anyway, you are a police officer, right?"

"NCIS agent," Ziva corrected him flatly.

"Whatever. I need your help."

"You are serious," Ziva stated flabbergasted.

"Of course I am. Christmas needs you, my dear. You have to save Christmas," the old man stated in a grave tone but without his face losing its glow.

Ziva took a deep breath, trying really hard not to strangle the old man. But really, it was really hard to stay mad at somebody if they kept looking at you with so much innocent hope as the strange man was looking at her at the moment from over his gingerbread cookies… even if he had just kidnapped her.

"What do you need from me?" She could feel herself giving in. Somehow it felt like talking to a child and not being able to do anything but humor him no matter what crazy idea he might have in his mind.

"I need you to find the truck that brings the orphans' presents to St. Theresa's. I'm responsible for bringing presents to the children – but you know that," he chuckled once again before turning serious – well, as serious as his rosy cheeks and sparkling blue eyes could allow him. "But this year I lost the truck and I'm afraid that this year the greedy men of this world will succeed in thwarting the joy of children who still sincerely believe in the magic of Christmas," he said in a tone that turned sharp by the injustice of the situation, then he continued in a lower voice, "I knew that taking the reindeers out of commission was a bad idea but the Sheriff wouldn't listen to me… he said that these delivering companies – or God knows what – know their jobs. Humbug – apparently they didn't know the first thing about delivering Christmas presents… or worse, someone sabotaged Christmas on purpose. That's why I need you – you have to bring justice for the sake of the children."

"And why are you telling me this? You should go to the Sheriff…"

"He wouldn't believe me," the old man exclaimed. "He thinks I'm insane," he added dejectedly and regarded Ziva with sad eyes as understanding downed on him. "And you think I'm insane, too."

Ziva opened her mouth to say something that wasn't complete admission to the fact simply because the look on the man's face broke her heart but he continued.

"You don't believe in the magic of Christmas?"

"I… I don't celebrate Christmas," Ziva admitted, shaking her head. "I'm Jewish."

"But you believe in unselfish love, don't you?"

"Yes," Ziva straightened. "Yes, I do."

"Then help me, please."

In the long, expectant silence that followed, Ziva took her time to look around the tiny apartment that overflew with every knick-knack that had anything to do with Christmas and that would make any sane person nauseous in this amount. Finally, after resting her eyes on the peacefully slumbering Great Dane with the antlers, she turned to the man and gave him a patient smile.

"All right, let's do this – let's save Christmas."

"Splendid." The joyful and excited cry the man gave her warmed her heart and made her chuckle. "Let's start with decorating the gingerbreads."

* * *

"What the hell you're talking about!" Gibbs exclaimed. "My wife's missing and you are all joking around. Get it together for God's sake!"

At his outburst all the men in the room looked chastised but it was Larry who dared to speak up.

"I was serious, Leroy. I think I know who took your wife."

"Santa Claus? Really?" McGee asked.

"Well, yes… and no," Larry sighed. "It's Nick Klaus."

"Are you kidding us?" McGee couldn't believe it – if Tony and his Christmas mania hadn't been enough, now he had to deal with a Sheriff who still believed in Santa Claus. And Tony seemed to buy his theory – if his expression was anything to go by.

"Nick is… different. When Mr. Palmer mentioned the reindeer, I knew that he must have been there. Look, I'm sure he doesn't mean anything wrong… maybe he was just there when the accident happened… maybe he just wanted to help your friend…"

"What do you know about this man?" Gibbs cut off his friend.

"He is a good man, Leroy."

"You said he's different, how?"

"He's… he thinks he's Santa Claus. He wasn't always like this… he had a family… three kids. He lost them all… in one evening. House fire. It was awful. He managed to bring his little girl out just to watch her die in his arms. It happened almost twenty-five years ago. He's never been the same."

Long silence followed Larry's explanation, mostly because all of them recognized the heartbroken look that settled on Gibbs' face.

"Where can I find him?" Gibbs asked pushing his feelings aside. No matter what happened to that man and how easily he could relate, he had to bring Ziva home.

"I'll take you there," Larry offered and almost immediately all the agents began to move.

"Agent Gibbs…" Palmer called after the team leader to apologize once again. Gibbs, though, turned around and interrupted him.

"Glad you're okay, Jimmy," he told him before leaving.

* * *

"Decorating the gingerbreads?" Ziva asked startled. "Shouldn't we start by… I don't know… looking for that truck?" she asked. If anything that would have given her a chance to get out of the apartment.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," the man dismissed Ziva while grabbing a huge bowl. "But first we have things to do. Here, the frosting. Let's get started."

"You do not seem too concerned about this whole situation," Ziva stated as she reluctantly started decorating the little cookies.

"Oh, I'm concerned all right," Santa disagreed than winked at Ziva playfully, "but I know that everything will turned out all right."

"I envy your confidence."

"It's not confidence, my dear. It's…"

"The magic of Christmas," Ziva finished with him and couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. This, however, reminded her of her plans for Christmas. Though not celebrating the holidays and with Hanukkah passed ten days ago, she was excited about the prospect of Gibbs' first real Christmas since losing his family. She wanted him to be able to enjoy these days with renewed trust in the future. But with Christmas Eve quickly approaching… Here she stopped her line of thoughts because it occurred to her that she had no idea what day it was. They started back on the evening of the 23rd but for all she knew Christmas had already passed.

"Mr. –"

"Just call me Santa, my dear."

Ziva felt ridiculous. "My name is Ziva," she offered.

"Beautiful name, beautiful young lady," the man said licking some frosting from his fingers.

Ziva smiled accepting the compliment then returned to her original line of thoughts. "Santa, maybe it will sound strange but… What day is it?"

"Why? It's the 24th. And there is so much to do till the morning!"

This piece of information broke Ziva's spirit somewhat.

"Of course," she said in a low voice thinking of the holiday she and Gibbs would undoubtedly miss. There was no way she could help the old man find that truck and get back home in time for Christmas. And she also had to find Jimmy. "You know, I couldn't see my things anywhere? Do you happen to have them with you?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Do you have a phone?" she asked hopefully.

"No, I don't," he stated simply but after seeing the dejected look on Ziva's face, he added jovially, "Why's the long face? If you want to talk with somebody, you can always send a card."

"Thank you but I really need a phone."

"I tell you what – we finish the gingerbreads then before we set out to find that person who stole the presents, we'll look for a pay phone."

"That could work."

"Splendid," Santa beamed. "Now get to work. Those gingerbreads won't decorate themselves."

* * *

"Here we're," Larry announced as he killed the engine.

"Not coming?" Gibbs looked back after exiting the car and noticing that Larry hadn't made any move to follow them.

"Nah," Larry shook his head with a strange look on his face. "I'll make some calls from here. And anyway, I'm sure that if you find your wife here, she'll be sipping hot chocolate with him and not being kept hostage."

Gibbs gave him a long glance before nodding. There was something he was missing here.

"Leroy," Larry called after him. "Don't be too hard on him. He is really a good man."

Before disappearing in the building, Gibbs nodded reluctantly – after all there was a chance that the man had kidnapped his wife and he would stop at nothing to find her.

"Nickolas Klaus open up," Gibbs called pounding on the man's door. When no answer came, he hit his fist on the wooden surface once again.

"Coming, coming… Give some time to an old man," a man was calling from behind the door and after a couple of second, the door opened.

"I can't believe it," Tony said in awe as he saw the white bearded man in the door. "You are…" he pointed a finger at him as the corners of his mouth turned into an unbelieving smile.

"Santa Claus," the old man supplied when Tony didn't seem to be able to finish his sentence.

"Oh, for God's sake," McGee sighed. His Christmas was turning into an annoying nightmare with Christmas songs, reindeers and Santa Claus.

"Can I help you, folks?"

"Agent Gibbs," Gibbs told him curtly. "Looking for my wife. Her car crashed and we have reasonable suspicion that you were on the scene."

"Oh," a huge smile appeared on Santa Claus' face and greeted the agents as old friend. "Come on in; she's in the living room." He'd hardly had time to step aside to give room for the little group to enter when Gibbs brushed past him in search of his wife.

"Ziva?" Gibbs stopped short as soon as his eyes landed on his wife's form. There was complete confusion written all over his face as he took in the scene in front of him. Ziva was sitting on the couch next to a richly decorated Christmas tree with an afghan pulled over her legs and a huge dog – with antlers and a huge artificial red nose – resting peacefully by her feet. She was knitting something in such a relaxed manner he only saw her do at home.

When Ziva heard him, she looked up surprised.

"Jethro?" she asked discarding the knitting needles and – almost falling over the still lying dog that only spared a sleepy glance for the stranger – she walked up to him with a guilty expression. "What are you doing here?"

"You thought I wouldn't come looking for you?" Gibbs asked amusement seeping into his voice as she reached for her.

"No," Ziva admitted with a small smile as Gibbs brushed his fingers over the bandage on her head. "I'm glad you came," she murmured burying her head into his chest and sneaking her arms around his waist.

"Could have fooled me," Gibbs chuckled. "What are you doing?"

"Saving Christmas?" she offered pulling away slightly and looking up at him with twinkling eyes.

"By knitting…?"

"Christmas decoration… for the Christmas tree of St. Theresa's."

"I see. That kept you from calling me."

"I don't have my phone with me."

"Don't be angry with her, Agent Gibbs," Santa stepped into the room followed by a beaming Tony and McGee, who looked around the room with trepidation. "She wanted to call you but all I could offer was to write a card to you."

"A card, huh?" Gibbs chuckled, happy to have his wife in his arms safe and sound. "I'm not angry," he looked down at Ziva. "Happy to have her back."

"You've never lost her at the first place," Santa pointed out. "Why does everybody think that I kidnapped her," he exclaimed exasperatedly. "I simply… borrowed her. I needed her help."

"To knit Christmas decoration?" McGee quipped.

"That's right," Tony agreed. "Don't you have a Mrs. Claus around?" he asked with a huge smile before remembering what had happened to the man's family. His smile began to fade but Santa laughed out merrily.

"Well, first of all, young man," he turned to McGee. "No, I didn't need her for that. I can knit myself. And as for Mrs. Claus," he turned to Tony, "If I had known that she likes men with… silver hair, I would have asked her to marry me. But of course, seeing that she's already taken that would have been for naught."

"I'm afraid I would not make a good Mrs. Claus," Ziva laughed out.

"That's humbug," Santa disagreed. "You'd be wonderful. But let's not make your husband jealous. Let's drink some hot chocolate," he quickly changed the subject and started toward the kitchen.

"That's so cool, Boss. This is Santa… Santa Claus," Tony beamed with hardly contained excitement.

"No, Tony, it's not," McGee told him.

"So," Gibbs turned to his wife while his two other agents kept on bantering about Christmas. "Why did the man need your help?"

* * *

By the time Santa returned from the kitchen with five mugs of steaming hot chocolate – which Tony pounced on eagerly – Ziva had told them everything she knew about the lost truck and the orphans' presents.

"Why do you think someone stole the truck?" McGee asked Santa after they settled down. "Maybe the driver's just got stuck in the snow."

"He should have been here by last night… before the snow hit."

"And who would need a whole truck of Christmas presents?"

"A better question would be: Who would want to steal the presents of orphans?" Santa shot back. "I tell you who – the bitter, lonely people who don't believe in the magic of Christmas and want to destroy it for others, too."

"Hey, McGrinch," Tony turned to McGee. "Did you steal Christmas?"

"Me? Why? I'm not bitter… and I'm not lonely," McGee protested feeling hurt.

"But you wanted to destroy my Christmas," Tony accused him in a pouty tone.

"That wasn't your Christmas; that was your stereo," McGee muttered and Tony grinned.

"Santa said that the presents are delivered through a company," Ziva told Gibbs.

"Do you have a contract… or a shipping manifest?" Gibbs asked the man.

"Why would I need that?" Santa looked at him clueless.

Gibbs looked taken aback by the answer but Ziva hushed him with a hand on his knee before turning to Santa. "Without those papers," she began to explain in a patient tone, "it is almost impossible to follow the route of the shipments, to identify the person of the driver or the truck he's driving… not to mention to prove that an agreement had been made between you and the company or that any payment had been made."

"Payment? The director of the company offered to help me… he'd been helping delivering the presents for years now. I've known him since he was a kid just like I've known Frankie who was supposed to collect the presents in the neighboring towns and bring them here by yesterday."

"Frankie who?" Gibbs asked.

"Frankie Donnelly."

"McGee," Gibbs turned to his younger agent who'd been already on his feet.

"What do we do now, Ziva," Santa looked at her forlornly, "… without those papers?"

"That is all right," she tried to reassure him. "It looks like it is a local company and with the name of the driver we can find out the license plate of the truck he was driving so we can find it."

"Really?"

"Really," Ziva nodded.

"Splendid," Santa hopped up from his seat, his previous desperation quickly forgotten. "So, where do we start?" He asked excitedly looking around the little group of NCIS agents.

"Well…" McGee started still finding the situation rather strange. "I'll go and talk to the Sheriff then we can send out a BOLO. Maybe someone saw the vehicle."

"Splendid," Santa clasped his hands together then turned and went to the kitchen.

McGee looked troubled as he reached for his phone and turned to step outside but Tony seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the situation.

"Splendid," he repeated Santa's words with a huge grin. "This is splendid. I'm spending Christmas with Santa and helping him finding his lost presents. Now, that's what I call Christmas."

"Here, kids," Santa returned with a tray of gingerbreads. "Have some gingerbread while we are waiting for that BOLO to be sent out," he stressed the unfamiliar acronym with a conspiring smile delighted at the prospect of participating in something very important.

Tony eagerly reached for a cookie and mouthed an amused 'gingerbread' to Ziva before taking a bite. Ziva chuckled as Tony followed Santa around the little apartment like a child.

"Jimmy is doing all right, yes?" Ziva turned to Gibbs when they remained the only ones in the room.

"He is," Gibbs reassured her. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yes," Ziva gave him a warm smile before adding in a light tone, "Apart from the headache and the nausea from this sweet and spicy smell – I had no idea that it is possible for someone to bake so much gingerbread."

"Well, what did you expect – it's Santa Claus after all," Gibbs shared in her lightheartedness and they chuckled together.

"Imagine how was it to wake up to a huge red nose in your face," Ziva laughed. "He is a very strange man… but he seems so innocent. It's like he is closed off from the real world."

"He lost his whole family over twenty years ago… a wife and three kids," Gibbs shared in a solemn tone and the lightheartedness that surrounded them quickly evaporated. "That can make a man close off completely."

Lost for any words, Ziva reached up to pull Gibbs into a deep kiss. Nothing could be said that hadn't been said before and all Ziva wanted to do was to make that pain disappear from his eyes.

Their kiss was interrupted by the opening of the front door.

"Boss," McGee stepped into the apartment brushing snow from his coat. "They've found the truck."

"BOLO came back?"

"Really?" Santa poked his head out of the kitchen where he was entertaining an overly enthusiastic Tony. "That was fast."

"Actually, it was the Sheriff. When I mentioned Donnelly's name, he immediately knew where to look."

"Where is he?"

"At a bar called – Naked Nancy."

"Oh," Santa's already rosy cheeks turned even redder. "I know that place," he started and when every eye turned on him, he quickly added, "I heard about it from a friend of a friend. You know it's a place where easy women throw their cloths off and show off their tits." At the last part he chuckled embarrassed.

"Isn't he cute?" Tony asked – apparently he was smitten by the old man. McGee gave him an incredulous look.

* * *

The bar was just outside the border of the town – a small wooden structure that was crowded with men one wouldn't really want to meet in a dark alley. As the agents – minus Tony and McGee who had stayed behind to check out the truck in the parking lot – stepped inside, Ziva smiled glancing to her side where Santa stood looking all sorts of awkward.

It didn't take long for them to spot Donnelly lying on the bar, nursing an empty shot glass.

"Do you want to make the honors?" Gibbs turned to his wife with an amused smirk.

"Well, of course," she smiled at him then turned to Santa. "Come on, Santa, let's sort this out." And with that they walked up to the slumbering young man.

"Frank Donnelly?" Ziva not-so-gently nudged his shoulders at which he slowly cracked open an eye.

"Hey there, angel," he slurred with a drunken grin. "Looks like my prayers's been answered. I asked for a hot chick just like you," he continued pushing himself up from the bar stool but losing balance and ending up stumbling into Ziva. "I had a little more buxom in mind but not complaining," he added unashamedly staring at Ziva's chest, still clinging to her.

Ziva grimaced at the smell that emanated from him and pushed him against the bar.

"More respect to the young lady, Frankie," Santa warned the man with a chastising look.

"Lookie there," Frankie squinted at him. "You brought Santa Claus, too."

"Of course she did. Those are my presents you stole."

"I didn't steal nothing," Frankie protested. "I'm still on my way."

"You are right," Santa agreed. "You're on your way to the jail for almost ruining Christmas."

"What?" Frankie turned his dazed look on Ziva, who just rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Frankie," she yanked on him and started to push him towards the exit. "Time to go home."

* * *

After dropping off Frankie at home, it was already time to deliver the presents to St. Theresa's where they had hardly had time to put everything under the orphanage's large tree on which Ziva's knitted ornaments were happily dangling before the first footsteps sounded in front of the large room. Soon after, more footsteps followed and the agents found themselves in the midst of happy children laughter and joyful screams of surprise.

Santa was the main attraction of the early morning celebration but Tony was eagerly assisting him sporting a green elf hat, even forgetting to freak out about the great number of children around him. Even McGee seemed to have warmed up and mingled with the excited children spreading the Christmas cheer.

"Here," Santa stepped up to Ziva after a while, fishing something out of his bag. "That's it," he observed his work after placing a green hat on Ziva'd head. "You are my honorary elf now, Ziva."

"Thank you," Ziva accepted the title with a smile, adjusting the hat on her head.

"And here is one for you, too, Agent Gibbs."

"I don't think…"

"He is very grateful," Ziva offered taking the hat from him and placing it on Gibbs' head.

"Splendid," Santa exclaimed gleefully.

"Splendid indeed," Ziva agreed with a grin. "You look nice."

Gibbs smirked then turned to Tony, who called for him from under the tree with a panicky look and three small girls jumping on him. He walked off chuckling to himself, leaving Ziva and Santa to themselves.

"You did great, Santa Claus," Ziva stated running her eyes over the room full of happy children.

"It wouldn't have been possible, hadn't it been for you, my dear," he returned merrily. "Thank you!"

As an answer Ziva hugged him, pressing her cheek against the white fur of his red coat. "Merry Christmas, Santa Claus!"

"Merry Christmas, Ziva! Oh… it seems I'm needed over there," he rested his eyes on a now crying toddler.

"Go ahead," Ziva pushed him gently, trying really hard to keep the gathering tears in her eyes at bay. That man had lost so much in life and yet he was able to give so much to others.

She was watching Santa taking the crying child into his lap when a familiar squeal interrupted her.

"Ziva, Ziva, Ziva…" a blur of black and white with two bright red ribbons on the top threw herself at Ziva as Abby greeted her with all the enthusiasm she could master.

"Abby," Ziva, though a little bit surprised, returned the hug with a smile. "How did you get here?"

"Let it remain my little secret," Abby winked at her then squeezed her hard. "I'm so glad you're okay, Ziva."

"Thank you, Abby."

"Abby?" Gibbs asked surprised when he returned with his agents, still wearing his elf hat and a happy, relaxed smile. "What are you doing here?" he asked the Goth, who was currently clinging to his wife.

"Are you kidding me? When I heard that Ziva got kidnapped by Santa Claus I had to come here. I had to make sure that you wouldn't shoot him. He is… oh!" Abby stopped short when the man in question appeared in her line of vision. "He is real!" she beamed letting go of Ziva and running up to Santa Claus.

"So…" Tony broke the silence that settled on the little group as Abby ran off. "Ziva got kidnapped by Santa Claus. That would make a good song, don't you think, Tiny Tim?" he mused putting an arm around McGee's shoulders and promptly began to hum a merry tune that would go well with the words. A painful expression appeared on McGee's face and it seemed that Tony was thoroughly enjoying it. "Come on, McGrinch, let's bring some Christmas cheer to the orphans of our very own North Pole." And with that he led the other man away to rejoin the children.

When everybody disappeared once again into the merry crowd, Ziva stepped closer to her husband.

"I am sorry," she muttered sneaking her arms around Gibbs' waist. He turned his head slightly to look at her before returning his attention to the scene in front of him.

"For what?" he asked with a rarely visible satisfied smile on his face.

"For ruining our first Christmas together," Ziva admitted. She was trying so hard to make it perfect for him. "I wanted you to have a real Christmas… with your family."

"Didn't ruin anything," Gibbs reassured her as he pressed a kiss into her hair without taking his eyes off of the crowd. "This is turning out to be the first real Christmas I had in a long time… and I got to spend it with my family," he squeezed her. "I love you, Ziver."

"I love you, too," Ziva smile, raising on her tiptoes and claiming his mouth in a short sweet kiss. "Merry Christmas, Jethro."

**THE END**

_Thanks for reading!_


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